Next up in my run through of the great Post-War Japanese literary giants, is Kōbō Abe. (You can check out my review of Shusaku Endo’s Silence here).

I actually discovered Abe not through his books, but through the films of Hiroshi Teshigahara. The Face of Another, which was adapted by the director from Abe’s novel, is an eerie film, with Tatsuya Nakadai doing a stellar job as the businessman who loses his identity (and his moral self in the process). I then moved on to The Woman in the Dunes, but didn’t think the film worked as well as The Face of Another. The repetition of the lead character’s isolation dragged the film down rather than creating suspense.

The book however is another story…

Abe’s short novel is as gritty as the ever-present sand that permeates the tale, in spite of having no typical aspects of a crime or suspense novel.

To be sure, the story does involve a kidnapping, namely one Jumpei Niki, a schoolteacher and entomologist who travels to a small remote village to collect rare insects from amongst the sand dunes. Having missed the final bus out of town, the locals offer to let him stay the night. They lead him to a deep pit within the dunes, wherein is small wooden cottage and the young widow who lives there. Niki climbs down the roper ladder and like a fly in the web, so he is trapped.

What makes the novel so sinister is Abe’s spare prose and simplicity in telling the tale. The villagers feel no remorse for trapping Niki, if anything they feel justified in their actions. After all, someone must dig up the sand they feel forced to sell illegally to companies and people in the cities in order to earn a living. More importantly, if the sand is not extracted from the pits that pockmark the landscape, the villagers who live within the dunes will be smothered to death. In order to survive, Niki must help the widow dig out the sand each night. But is she a victim as well, or part of the trap?

Abe takes sand, the most innocuous of items, and turns it into a sinister nemesis. The sand creeps into everything, constantly covering and eating away at the buildings and ultimately Niki.

While the repetition of Niki’s days in captivity slow down the film version, Abe uses the device to great effect in the novel, adding to the psychological tension of the story. As the days creep on, Niki at first tries to find reason in his absurd situation. Then as panic sets in, he tries to scheme his way out of the pit, becoming ever more desperate in his attempts to leave the village. I won’t give away the ending, but the poor soul is both literally and figuratively in over his head.

What Abe ultimately delivers is a story of a man trapped in an oppressive situation. While it is somewhat heavy-handed in its allusion to our own lives, The Women in the Dunes is chilling in its depiction of Niki’s capture, psychological torment, and ultimate fate. This leaves the reader with the question, “Am I not trapped as well?”